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Ice CreamKristel KlankYou taunt me from that half empty Ben and Jerryʼs carton.Ice melting off your cardboard sidesreminds me that Iʼve had enough,but when you whisper in that sweet, sultry tonedonʼt you just want one more bite?I always give in.Cookie dough,Reeseʼs cups,Brownie pieces—you own my self-control.And when I fmally set down the spoon,carton empty and bare,I know itʼs too late.I know Iʼve failed.You have won again.Another diet ruined.Another mile to run.Another pound to lose.You leave me feeling empty,just like the calories youʼre made of.PopEric GorenfloShe sits there, suspended under the frigidwater, turning into a block of ice. Only 16.“Please God, press rewind.”Her body lurches, and she plunges back upthrough the hole in the thin sheet of ice aboveher—back up into the bitter December air. Thewater droplets fall off her fur coat and Out ofher long hair—back into the hole in the lake,where shards of ice form back into a perfectfrozen pane. The water withdraws from herlungs, and her last breath works its way backin. She feels the dry pier drop itself firmlybeneath her designer boots. And again shestands there—on the edge—unthinking it all.Teardrops unfreeze and dribble back up hercheeks, into her tear ducts. Her legs begin torun backward, pulling her footprints back outof the snow—her shoes collecting them, stackingthem back onto the soles. She continuesaway from the pier, through the docks—thewind pulling the chill out of her cheeks. Herlegs rush her in reverse through the town—pastthe mall and the school and the liquor store.All the while, the frozen ground spits snowback up into the sky. Finally, she unruns upthe sidewalk and through the front door— pastthe family that never noticed her leave. All thewords she couldnʼt take any more soar out ofher ears and back behind the teeth of Motherand Father. Dropping the fur coat on the floor,she falls back into bed. Her head hits the pillow,and she unhears the breaking lamp. Slammingher eyes shut, she flinches back to sleepand begins to undream of a faraway place.The empty bottle sucks the anger back out ofFatherʼs mouth—out of his brain. Sitting therein his chair, he unbreaks the seal. Curled upon the couch in the basement, Mother uncries.Normal.Then all at once, it plays.Pop.The seal breaks—and soon after it, a lamp.She jumps out of bed and into a closed casket.Only 16. Her hands cross neatly inside herbox. Muffled sobs come from the outside. Hishand places the last white chrysanthemum ontop. Then words she never thought sheʼd hear.“Please God, press rewind.”Megan Sandbergafterglow 9